Breakfast
by kydasam
Summary: Carl muses on Van Helsing SLASH/HUMOR


Rating: PG13

Pairing: Carl/Gabriel

Summary: Carl takes a "sick day" off to enjoy life and do some Gabriel Watchingt. I found this in Kyda's pc, I don't see it in the list of her other stories, but it made me laugh and I thought you might enjoy it too!

Warning: This story contains the suggestion of slash. Please do not read if you are offended by m/m relationships.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything (sniff), but I do like to play

Feedback: Love the idea, hate flames--be kind

**Breakfast**

Carl watched Van Helsing move about the camp site in the early

morning light with barely opened eyes. He wasn't sleepy, he only

wanted to be able to watch without the other man knowing that he was

awake. In the security of his supposed sleep, he would be able to

observe Van Helsing's movements, the way his body moved, the way his

hair shone in the gathering light, and the gathering of his muscles

beneath the open neck shirt he wore.

It was warm this morning, and Van Helsing had opted to wear just a

simple white cotton shirt, open at the neck, rather than his usual vest and

sweater. It was something he'd never worn before and Carl found

himself intrigued by the sight. It molded to his body in some places, was

looser in others, vaguely translucent when the light hit it just right, but

never giving away more than shadows.

Carl wondered if it was a sin to enjoy looking at Van Helsing as he so

often did. It didn't feel sinful, any more than when he looked at the bar

maids at the taverns they stopped at. But there was an important

exception--while he enjoyed the company of the maids and certainly

enjoyed the sex, he never considered a longer relationship with them.

But that was what he wanted with Gabriel. He enjoyed their bantering,

their silences, their arguments, and their discussions. He enjoyed being

with the hunter, felt safe with him and flattered that Gabriel actually

smiled at him and apparently enjoyed his company.

Certainly, he enjoyed Gabriel's company...It wasn't a stretch to say

Gabriel was beautiful. Anyone with eyes would admit it, tho if they

were smart, most would keep their admiration to a quiet murmur. The

hunter didn't invite or appreciate the lust of others, however low-key or

private. Carl could understand, Gabriel's life was so public, he really

had very little privacy. Everyone wanted a piece of him--whether it was

his loyalty, his strength, his courage, or just his attention.

Certainly, Carl felt, that obligated him to keep his own desires

concerning his friend quiet, if only for Gabriel's sake. It was the least he

could do, really. Truly.

So he enjoyed the view from afar, so to speak. And he had to admit, the

view this morning was particularly breathtaking. The hunter was

currently hanging some blankets in a tree to air. Stretching up as he

was, his body was on display for Carl's perusal and the friar took

shameless pleasure in that view. He especially loved the small of

Gabriel's back as it curved into the smooth soft globes of his buttocks.

They looked so...Carl squeezed his eyes shut against a sudden image in

his mind of those soft globes bared to his eyes, and his own hand

stroking them, causing them shiver slightly...perhaps spanking them...

Van Helsing turned as he heard a soft moan from the friar, his eyebrows

raising in surprise. He'd thought Carl was asleep.

"Carl? Do you feel unwell?"

"Yes..." the friar's voice was a barely audible squeak and his face was

flushed a deep red. To the hunter's eye, he didn't look well, in fact he

looked as if he were having difficulty breathing properly.

Van Helsing approached the friar's bedroll, crouching down so that he

rested lightly on the balls of his feet, his elbows on his thighs, hands

dangling between them. Critically, he eyed his friend, then moved to

place one hand on the friar's forehead to test for fever. The man was

warm--perhaps not feverish, but definitely warm. And his breathing

seemed more difficult than before.

"Carl, what's the matter. Are you sick this morning? I told you not to

eat the last of that rabbit last night."

The friar shook his head, cracking open his eyes to be greeted by a direct

view of Gabriel's knees and between them...

Another moan emerged as he quickly slammed his eyes shut. Good

Lord! Spanking?! Where had that thought come from? It certainly

had the ring of sin...and more than a little guilty pleasure. When had he

become such a...a...well, there wasn't a word bad enough to describe

what he had become. Not even in Latin!

And what would Gabriel say to that--no, best not to even let himself

imagine what Gabriel would have to say to that! Instead he forced

himself to imagine the least erotic image he could summon...the very

worst he could imagine...he tried to think of Cardinal Jinette...yes, that

would take the edge off of a sex-starved bull, let along one slightly

lascivious and obviously suicidal friar. Jinette...in a towel...yes...he

was actually starting to feel slightly ill... Better, much better! Both

distraction and penitence, in one stroke.

"Hmph," Van Helsing snorted above him. He could hear the rustle of

cloth and knew that the hunter was running a hand through his long dark

hair as he glanced around the campsite, considering. "I suppose we can

stay here for a few days, until you feel better. There's food and water

close by. And this place is reasonably defensible."

A deep masculine sigh gusted down and Carl enjoyed the feeling of it

playing over his skin before he pushed the traitorous thought aside and

concentrated again on Jinette in a towel--a small towel. Oh God, he

was becoming ill. Alright...maybe time to change images...yes,

definitely!

The grass beneath the vampire slayer's boots squeaked as he rose and

moved over to the fire. Carl risked opening his eyes to watch the other

man prod at the fire, then bend to stir a pot of something simmering

in the coals. If Carl moved just a little...stretched just a little

upwards...yes, there it was. A direct line down the front of Gabriel's

open shirt. He could see the dark soft shadow of the hair misting over

his chest and the swell of his breasts. Too far away to get a really good

view, but what he could see was very pleasurable...oh my...the man

was certainly in marvelous shape. Really quite...

Abruptly, Gabriel looked up to catch Carl's eyes on him, his own

eyebrows rising in surprised arcs.

"So you are among the living, eh? Don't worry, I'm not going to make

you get up. I can see that you're not feeling up to snuff this morning."

Considering that Carl could feel a rather large embarassing reaction

burdgeoning between his legs at that very moment, that statement

couldn't strictly be said to be true. But, the idea of remaining in his bed

roll tucked safely out of sight seemed like a marvelous idea. Everyone

stayed happy then.

"Thank you, Gabriel. I really think it would be for the best...if we

stayed here...just for a little while...a day or two..."

Van Helsing snorted again, his expression was fond as he eyed the friar.

"Aye, I imagine so, greedy. Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell

you the meat is off."

The friar squirmed guiltily, and managed to smile weakly. New

possibilities were opening up to his mind. If he were sick, Gabriel

would need to take care of him...feed him...look after his share of the

chores...cuddle him when he had bad dream...Oh my!

He shivered strongly at the fantasy and was rewarded with a renewed

look of concern in the other man's eyes. Van Helsing stood up and

strode to the tree he'd been hanging their blankets from, pulling down

several. Evidentally, he thought Carl had caught a chill and was going

to wrap him up. A good idea for chills, but it wouldn't serve Carl's

purpose of just being nearer his friend. He felt safe and loved...too

strong a word? No, loved sounded about right... when Gabriel touched

him, for whatever reason. Was that such a sin?

The other man was now kneeling beside him, preparing to bury him in

blankets.

"Gabriel...it's alright...please, I'm really warm enough."

"But you're shivering, I can see it."

"It's not from cold. It's just a muscular reaction. I think I might be

coming down with a bug of some sort. Really, just staying here for a

couple of days without all that bouncing and jouncing on horseback will

do me a world of good."

Gabriel, bless his heart, looked at the friar as though he wanted to argue,

but he acceded to Carl's judgment. After all, Carl did normally look

after the health of both of them. Certainly he must know better than the

vampire hunter what was proper and what wasn't.

Carl sighed and smiled up at his friend. Now, for a little, just a little,

pampering.

"Actually, except for a headache I feel reasonably human. I wish I

could get rid of it."

"Headache? Do you have anything in your bags for that?"

"No," Carl sighed regretfully again, a very light sigh designed to wring

maximum pity from Van Helsing. Gabriel was such a intensely private

man, it probably wouldn't occur to him to offer to massage Carl's

temples...but with a suitable hint...

Carl awkwardly pulled one hand free of the blankets and ineffectually

rubbed at his own temple; grimacing, he closed his eyes in pain.

A large warm hand covered his own. "Here, let me do that."

He opened his eyes to see Van Helsing lower himself onto the grass at

his head, quickly fold a blanket into a loose pillow which he placed in

his lap, then encouraged Carl to scoot up slightly and place his head in

Van Helsing's lap.

Carl's very body sang with the feeling of wonder and happiness as he

laid his head in his friend's lap and gave himself over to the pleasure of

having his temples and scalp rubbed by long strong fingers. It was such

an incredible pleasure and his toes curled as he felt Van Helsing's breath

puff over his face and the warmth of the other man's body wash over his

own. It was amazing.

His expression must have showed the enjoyment he felt because Van

Helsing chuckled over him. "I can see that you like that. It's doing

some good, apparently. I'm glad, but I can't help wondering what the

Church would say to such a wanton display of sybaritic pleasure. I

thought you men of the cloth practiced self-denial and self-discipline?"

Carl emerged from the cloud of euphoria to make a moue of worldly

disdain. "I think you have me mixed up with some sort of clapist clap

trap, Gabriel. I don't believe God would have allowed us to feel

pleasure if it weren't right and proper to indulge in it upon occasion. A

pleasure that harms no one while giving benefit surely can't be wrong.

Ooooh, yes, just a little harder there...mmmmm"

"I think, little friar, that you don't subscribe to a fair number of the

religious practices. Somehow I can't see Jinnette moaning in pleasure as

you do over a simple head rub. Come to think of it, I can't see him

even allowing himself one."

"Gabriel, please! I'm in no shape to have Cardinal Jinette thrust upon

me at such an early hour. Have you no compassion in you to do such a

thing?"

Carl shuddered, but secretly enjoyed hearing Van Helsing laugh (he

didn't do it often enough).

"Alright, point taken. How is your headache now?"

"Mmmmmmm, what headache?" Carl moaned and stretched like a cat

in Van Helsing's lap.

"Mm-Hmm, what headache indeed. If I didn't know that religueses

were bound to truthfulness, I might have my suspicions. Alright, Carl,

enough of this for now. I think you and I could use some breakfast."

Despite Carl's most pitiful moaning disagreement, the vampire hunter

gently disengaged, carefully laying Carl's head back on his own thin

pillow. Standing, Van Helsing went to the fire and began to dish up

their meal.

Carl sighed his disappointment. While it lasted, he'd had a true taste of

heaven. The only possible thing that could have been more enjoyable

would have been one of Van Helsing's special bear hugs. They didn't

happen often--actually they were rarer than a papal dispensation for

fornication in the market place--but when they did happen, it was

something wonderful. Strong arms that held one tight to a broad chest

that was both hard and soft, and so warm it was like being caressed by

the sun. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could happen to you when you

were in that hug. Carl wondered if even the dying and dead would come

back in such a hug, then hastily crossed himself mentally. Alright, there

_was _a touch of blasphemy in that one...definitely worth a few Hail

Mary's. But the point had been made, in any case.

Van Helsing was returning with the food now. Actually, Carl could feel

his own hunger knot his stomach at the scent of food. He wondered if he

could convince Van Helsing he was still sick while asking for seconds?

Breakfast was some sort of cereal, sweetened with plump ripe red

berries. It was delicious. And it also provided another tempting mental

image--Van Helsing berry picking.

Carl's snort of suppressed laughter made the vampire hunter eye him

with a cautious alarm normally reserved for mental cases wandering

loose in the streets..

"Do I want to know?" he murmured as he spooned up another mouthful,

watching Carl with condescending good humor.

The friar shrugged and allowed his mouth to widen in a grin.

"Just imagining you wandering the hills with your little bucket, berry

picking."

One of the other man's dark eyebrows rose in a sardonic arch, his lips

quirking in a slanting smirk.

"The berries are just inside the forest, no hills, sorry. My "little bucket"

was actually my hat. And if the thought of my picking them amuses you

so much, just imagine how you'll enjoy the thought of picking more

yourself."

Carl flushed and ducked his head before casting a propitiating glance up

through his eyelashes at his friend. "I didn't mean to laugh, Gabriel. It

really was a most thoughtful thing for you to do. It's just..I suppose I'm

still getting used to the deadly dark monster hunter, it's a little difficult

to match that image to a man with a hat full of fruit."

"Hah hah," Van Helsing's lips curved up into a full fledged smile that

made Carl smile in return. "Well the "deadly dark monster hunter"

enjoys a decent breakfast as much as a pleasure seeking, cursing,

wenching friar does. So enjoy them now, the next batch will be your

job."

Shrugging his acceptance, Carl returned to the enjoyment of his

breakfast, spooning up every last bite. Truthfully, he would have loved

seconds, but considering that he'd all but licked the bowl and he was

supposed to be feeling poorly, it seemed a good time to stop. Perhaps

he'd be feeling "better" by lunch and he could have an especially big

portion then.

Mmmm...yes, that sounded just right!


End file.
